Clarion

by William Greenleaf

  Then something Selmer had said came back to him:

  The young were special to the Tal Tahir.

  Chapter Ten

  TIME CREPT IMMEASURABLY PAST.

  The pressure eased inside Paul's head. Reality returned slowly. He realized that the chamber was silent. He became aware of a cramp in his leg, and his hand pressed against the wood of the cabinet wall.

  Silence.

  He opened his eyes. High Elder Brill and the others had left the chamber. Mercifully, the creature above the chauka also had gone. Paul stared at the chauka and forced himself to remain still for a few minutes longer. Behind him he could hear Dorland's breathing. Another moment passed.

  "Are you all right?" Dorland asked quietly. Paul slowly straightened the cramp out of his leg.

  "I think so. We have to get out of here."

  "Yes."

  He was there, too, Paul thought. We were connected—

  Dorland reached past him to push open the

  wooden door. Paul stepped out of the cabinet, feeling rubbery in the legs.

  Ill

  112 William Greenleaf

  Daddy, Daddy . . .

  He stumbled slightly over the doorframe and felt Borland's hand on his shoulder.

  "We're out of it," Dorland said.

  Cleve saw something that made him lose his

  mind.

  Paul felt again the doubts and insecurities, the dark memories of his past—and the sensation of warmth and reassurance that had washed them away. He felt the alien cold flushing through his veins, and Doriand's reassuring touch. We are hopeful that Doriand's training will protect him. A battle had been silently waged inside that chamber, but High Elder Brill and the other elders and deacons had been completely unaware of it. Diana and Shari—

  But that didn't make sense, either. Diana and Shari were dead, and whatever else Dorland and Lord Tern had done, Paul was sure they had not contacted the dead.

  He shook his head. Later, he could analyze what had happened. For now, he wanted only to get out of this place.

  Keeping his eyes averted from the chauka, Paul followed Dorland past the odd pedestals and out through the wide doorway. There they stopped to listen.

  Paul signaled Dorland to stay where he was, then moved cautiously to the open archway. He drew in a breath of cool air to steady his nerves. There was no sound except the bleating of insects from the darkened courtyard. He moved close enough to the archway to give himself a view outside. As far as he could see, the courtyard was empty.

  He slipped outside to the blessed cover of darkness. A moment later Dorland stood beside him. Crouching low, they made their way to the low wall. Paul lifted his head just far enough to see over

  CLARION 113

  it. There was no sign of the sentries. He motioned to Dorland, and they silently climbed over the wall and started across the roadway.

  The sentry must have been standing in the deep shadows down by the comer. Paul was unaware of his presence until he heard the shout. Then he and Dorland were running across the roadway. Shadowy figures loomed suddenly in front of them. Paul fumbled for his knife, and a hand grasped his arm.

  "This way!" Karyn hissed.

  Several hundred meters down David's Tube they stopped to rest. They had lost the pursuers in the maze of roadways before they went up the access port to the tube.

  "Are you okay?" Selmer asked.

  Dorland kept silent. Paul nodded, but he didn't feel okay, and he was sure it showed. He felt as if he had been . . . raped. Something slimy had entered his mind. It had pulled open his private thoughts and memories and pawed through them. He wasn't sure he would ever feel totally safe again. Karyn and Selmer were full of questions, but Dorland was withdrawn and uncommunicative. In a few halting sentences Paul described the ceremony he and Dorland had witnessed. Without even considering why he did so, he kept silent about the other experiences—the shadows that had reached out to his mind, the visit from Shari. That part was private between him and Dorland.

  "You actually saw Lord Tern in there?" Karyn asked when he had finished.

  "We saw something. It came out of the chauka."

  "High Elder Brill. . . called it?" Paul hesitated. Somehow it was hard to remem-ber exactly how that had happened. "I think so. He was chanting and making motions with his hands. Then it came."

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  William Greenleaf

  "Came from where?" Selmer asked, making no effort to hide his skepticism. "You said the chauka was shaped like a shallow bowl. That's the same way Cleve described it. You also said Lord Tern was almost as big as a man. How could he come out of a shallow bowl?"

  "Well. . ." Paul thought back to what had happened when High Elder Brill waved his hands over the chauka, and the appearance of the creature above the chauka like a spindly insect. "We saw something.'1'1 But Selmer was right. There was no way Lord Tern's body could have been concealed inside that shallow dish. And there was something else—

  He looked up at Dorland. "But I'm beginning to wonder if what we saw was really Lord Tern."

  "High Elder Brill called him," Dorland said. "He came. How can you doubt it was Lord Tern? We saw him."

  "I know." It was clear that Dorland's statement carried a deeper meaning. We felt his black heart. That was the bothersome part. "But he didn't look . . . solid. I could see through him." K-aryn's brow pulled down. "Lord Tern was . . . transparent?"

  Paul shook his head. "Not exactly transparent. But he didn't look completely solid. He moved around a lot. A couple of times, when he turned at the right angle, I could see the light globes shining through his body."

  Karyn was watching him with interest. "I don't understand."

  "I'm not sure I do, either. I guess—" We felt Lord Tern in the room with us. He could come up with theories about Lord Tern's appearance, but how could he explain what he and Dorland had felt inside that room? "Maybe the Tal Tahir transmitted the image from somewhere else."

  "Transmitted?" Selmer asked.

  "Like fartalk, but with pictures as well as words." That would explain why Lord Tern hadn't left the chauka, even though Paul was sure the creature had sensed their presence in the cabinet. If he was only a projected image . . .

  But if he was only an image, how could he detect our presence^

  Karyn shook her head. "I don't get it."

  "Paul's suggesting that the picture of Lord Tern was sent from someplace else," Selmer said. His eyes returned to Paul. "There would have to be a receiver." He hesitated. "The chaukaT'

  Paul shrugged. "Could be."

  Karyn's brow furrowed. "If the picture was transmitted, where did it come from?"

  That was the obvious question. "There's no way to know," Paul admitted. "If the transmitter's powerful enough, it could send the image from anywhere on the planet. Most of Clarion hasn't even been charted. There might be a Tal Tahir city that hasn't been found yet. Or the Tal Tahir may not even be on Clarion anymore. The chauka may be capable of communicating over a long distance."

  "Well . . . maybe," she said doubtfully. "But that would mean they've been communicating with elders of the Holy Order for two hundred years. Why wouldn't they come here?"

  Paul shrugged. "There are a lot of questions. We may never know all the answers."

  "We know one thing for sure," she said. "The chauka is the link between High Elder Brill and Lord Tern. There's no doubt of that. That means we have to get back to the temple and destroy it."

  "No."

  Everyone turned to look at Dorland.

  "We can't do that," he said. His eyes were clear now, and filled with a certainty of purpose that Paul had never seen before. "The chauka is our 116 William Greenleaf CLARION 117

  only way to contact Lord Tern. We have to keep it open."

  Paul issued a harsh bark of laughter. "You can talk to Lord Tern if you want to. I never want to see him again."

  "We have to."

  "No, we don't. Maybe arkies will som
eday, but not us. Besides, you're forgetting something. We can't reach Lord Tern or anyone else with the chauka because we don't know how to operate it."

  "Let's go back and break it," said Selmer.

  "Nobody wants to do that more than me," Paul said. "But I don't think we'll be able to get back into the temple so easily. There were more sentries than you expected tonight. Brill has obviously pumped up security around the temple. Now that he knows we got inside, he's likely to take steps to make sure it doesn't happen again."

  "They haven't had time to get organized," Karyn argued. "They won't expect us to hit them again so soon."

  "I think there's someplace else we should go," Dorland said.

  Karyn opened her mouth, then looked at

  Dorland and kept silent.

  "The pedestals we saw inside the chamber—I've seen them before."

  "Where?" Karyn asked.

  "A place my father took me to," Dorland said.

  "We were exploring. My father was Second Speaker. He could move freely through Chalcharuzzi. We had gone to the other side of the city, close to the river, when we came across a building that caught my father's interest." He looked up as if suddenly remembering that the others were there with him.

  "There was little damage."

  "Why was your father so interested in it?" Karyn asked.

  "The building was not a dome. It had a square shape, like that of the temple. And it had a spire. Part of one, anyway—most of it had fallen into the river."

  "A spire?" Karyn repeated. "Like the one above the temple?"

  Dorland nodded. "Vines had nearly covered the building, but we searched until we found a way inside. That's where I saw the pedestals. Father went inside, but I was afraid. I only looked through the doorway. When my father came out, he was even more excited. I'm sure he intended to go back, but he was killed not long after."

  A brief silence was broken by Karyn. "Do you think it was another temple building?"

  "I don't know," Dorland said. "If so, it had not been used in a long time."

  "Even if we can find the building," Selmer said,

  "how could it help us?"

  "I didn't go inside," Dorland said, "and my father did not say what he saw in there. But I know he was very excited. I think he may have seen another chauka."

  "A chaukaF

  "Possibly."

  "Well . . ." Selmer fell silent.

  "Could you find the building again?" Karyn asked.

  Dorland hesitated. "It happened a long time ago. I remember only that it was close to the river." Paul's mind had gone to something Selmer

  Ogram had said the day before as they sat watching the sun set over the valley. The Tal Tahir used the spire in a lot of their architecture. And: The Holy Order had the others torn down. He thought about the symmetry of design that had been preferred by the Tal Tahir, and remembered his confusion about the position of the temple and the lack of similar buildings in the same area of other quadrants.

  "There were hundreds of them," he said. 118 William Greenleaf CLARION 119

  The others looked at him, and he realized they were waiting for him to go on. He licked his lips, thinking it through.

  "The tubeways may have been the main source of transportation for the Tal Tahir," he said. "But they served another purpose. They effectively broke the city up into small sections. I noticed the pattern yesterday."

  "Pattern?" Karyn asked.

  "The city's divided into squares by the tubeways. Each square also has a pattern, and I'm willing to bet that each square was a functioning unit on its own. In each section the domes are arranged in concentric circles that radiate out from an open area in the middle."

  "The Tal Tahir lived in the domes," Karyn said. She still didn't see what he was getting at. "Maybe they left the open areas as parks, or communal meeting places."

  "Think about the temple's location. It's set back about two hundred meters from the intersection of two of the tubes."

  "David's Tube and Tube Four," Selmer said.

  "Right. The Holy Order has cleared the area around it. But there are enough roadways and domes left so that the temple's location would put it just about in the same position as the open areas in the other sections."

  Karyn thought about that. "You're right."

  "Have you seen any of the original arkie photos of the city?"

  She shook her head. "The Holy Order destroyed them a long time ago."

  "I think I know why," Paul said. "The Holy Order says the Tal Tahir built the temple as a special building for them. The elders didn't want anyone to know there used to be many buildings just like it. They had them all destroyed, except the one they use for their temple. But they missed the one Dorland and his father found."

  "I still don't see what that does for us," Karyn said. "How can it help us even if we find another temple building?"

  "It might give us a clue about what the Tal Tahir used the building for," Paul said. "And if there's another chauka in there—"

  "We can poke around it without worrying about the Holy Order busting in on us!" Selmer exclaimed. "Let's go!" Karyn was already opening her fartalker. "First we'll find out what Sabastian thinks."

  Chapter Eleven

  THE WEAPONS HANGING FROM JONNY IRONFIST'S

  belt bumped against his legs as he strode down the pathway toward the large square building that was home to High Elder Alban Brill. Jonny held his cap in his left hand so his knife hand was free; even in this holy place his training shaped his behavior. Strapped to his belt were a dart gun, a heavy wooden battle club and a long-bladed knife. The weapons gave him a sense of self-confidence he had never felt before he became a member of the Sons of God. He was especially proud of the knife, which had been formed out of steel from Vanguard stock—dating it back to High Elder Anson himself.

  The stern-faced deacon who had come for Jonny at the dormitory behind the temple wouldn't tell him why he had been asked to come here. But Jonny had heard that the heretics had once again entered the sacred chamber, and escaped under cover of darkness. He couldn't help but wonder if the summons to the High Elder's office was somehow related to that. Rumors were flying among the 121

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  brothers that Lord Tern had issued a new proclamation that could help them find and destroy the heretic band.

  Jonny stopped for a moment on the pathway to take a deep breath of the cool morning air. He felt a high exhilaration bursting through him, almost the same feeling he'd had when he first learned that he had been chosen to become a Son of God. His fingers unconsciously went to his cheek, touching the deep scar that slanted across his face—a reminder of an admonition from Elder Jacowicz when Jonny had failed to carry out an order precisely as Elder Jacowicz had given it.

  But that had happened a long time ago. Jonny had been one of Lord Tern's Sons for three years, and he felt certain that Lord Tern was pleased with his work. He had earned the name Ironfist only three months ago, after he had been personally responsible for bringing four heretics to justice. Elder Jacowicz had hinted that before long Jonny would be promoted to squad leader. He knew that all the brothers looked up to him.

  Standing there on the pathway with the sun on his face and a wondrous singing in his blood, Jonny found himself thinking about his friends in Fairhope, and how dull his life would be if he had not been selected for the Sons. His friends would grow up working in the fields or sewing clothes or repairing machinery.

  Not that there was anything wrong with that. After all, Fairhope had been established by the Tal Tahir gods to support the Holy Order in its worship of them. That was the only reason the town was there, and its people. But Jonny felt drawn to a much higher mission. Anybody could work the fields or sew cloth, but it required a special kind of person to protect the fundamental precepts of the Holy Order. Fewer than one in fifty were selected for the honor; only those who displayed the special qualities sought by the Holy Order and Lord Tern were
selected.

  Now he was only a few meters away from the

  steps that led to the front porch of High Elder Brill's house. Jonny had never before been allowed to come here. As far as he knew, none of the brothers had ever been invited to this place.

  "It must be something really big" Wayne Lightfoot had said when Jonny left the dormitory. Really big, Jonny agreed silently as he went up the walkway to the wide steps. The porch was bordered by trimmed hedges and blooming flowers

  —delicate blue and yellow jewel tips. His mother had planted jewel tips around the front door of the little house in Fairhope ...

  Jonny felt a slight pang and immediately pushed it away. This was his life now.

  A robed deacon stood at each side of the door. Jonny recognized both of them—Deacon Francks and Deacon Bray—but somehow he knew that in this place he could not be so familiar as to call them by name. He went up the steps and strode across the porch to the large wooden door. Keeping his voice strong, he said, "I'm Jonny Ironfist."

  "This way," said Deacon Bray, motioning Jonny to follow. He stepped off the porch onto a walkway that led down the side of the building. He stopped at a side entrance, tapped twice, then opened the door and gestured Jonny inside.

  Jonny found himself in a large reception room with couches and chairs that he recognized as Vanguard furnishings. A few highly polished sculptures were made from native wood. Jonny had never before been in the presence of such opulence. A pair of large double doors led into another room. Deacon Bray motioned Jonny through with a hint of impatience.

  Jonny stopped just inside the room. The doors closed softly behind him. He turned and saw that 124

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  Deacon Bray had gone. He turned back with his heart pounding. The room was vast and simple, with polished wood furniture—a desk, a low table, a few finely carved chairs. Dim light came from ancient globes that hung from the ceiling.

  High Elder Brill was sitting behind the desk, studying a punch-tube that he held delicately between the forefingers of each hand. Jonny was disappointed to see that the High Elder wore only common clothing—a drably dark shirt and dark trousers. Jonny had seen the High Elder only during the Godsday services, when he wore the bright flaring robe and the high, elaborately decorated crown. The High Elder seemed not to have noticed